American Revolution
by ARandomShadowInLife
Summary: America suddenly is awakened by a gunshot, and when he sees his younger self and England. He wondered how he had pointed his gun at him, and how could he have hurt him so badly, after he had raised him. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**American Revolution **

I woke as soon as I heard a gunshot.

_Who would shoot a gun this late? _I thought, sitting up. I felt the rain falling down heavily. _W-Where am I?_ I thought, as I looked around the surrounding area. _No! It can't be. Please no…_

I stood up, and ran, relying on the sounds of gunshots to get around.

I stopped, staring in front of me.

It was me and England. I was pointing my gun at him.

The Revolutionary War…

"Hey Britain, all I want is my freedom!" I heard my younger-self yell. "I'm no longer a child, nor your little brothers from now on, consider me independent!"

_Please!_ I thought. _Please, I don't want to see this…_ I want to close my eyes, scream at them to stop, something, something to stop them.

I stared at the younger versions of me and England. We were both trembling, it be from the sharp pain of the rain, or the fear of shooting family, I couldn't tell nor did I want to.

Both of them stared at each other sternly, my younger-selves eyes were filled with anger, and England's held disbelief that I was raising my gun at him.

How much courage did it take to raise that at him? A lot. England had raised me, put up with my complaining, whining, my childishness, and what did I repay him with? Betrayal.

They both stood still, rain pouring down on them, and then England ran toward the younger-me, his gun aimed towards my face, if I hadn't blocked it with my own, I could've bled to death, but blocking, caused it to fling into the air, leaving my younger-self weaponless.

"Stop! Don't do this!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, but they couldn't hear me, so I tried to run. I couldn't run either; my feet were planted to the ground.

England panted before yelling, "I won't allow it! You idiot why can't you follow anything through to the end?"

"Ready! Aim!" the soldiers raised their guns to England, ready to shoot if he did anything.

He stared at the tip of the sharp blade, most likely wondering if England was going to shoot, but to his surprise, he lowered it. "There's no way I can shoot you, I can't." England dropped to his knees, starting to cry, "Why? Damn it why? It's not fair." He choked out.

_Why am I here? _I thought, as I wiped a tear away. _Why am I here God damn it! I don't want to be reminded of this! I don't want to…_

"You know why." He explained sadly. "What happened? I remember when you were great."

I dropped to the ground, my legs not able to help me stand any longer, and I cried, like I hadn't in years and years.

People say tears are salty because salt heals wounds. I now understand what it means.

**A/N**_ If_ anyone wants me to write more chapters, then I gladly will, but if no one says anything, then I'll let it be.

This may be different what other people thought, America leaving him because he wanted to be seen as an equal to England, or he did because he loved him.

But if it were me, I would have a hard time trying to face the past [Like I had wrote America]. **Especially** if I saw the person on a daily basis.


	2. Chapter 2

**American Revolution**

I don't know why, but eight o' clock in the morning, America had come knocking on my door.

"A-America, what are you doing here?" I asked, starting to wonder why he looked so distressed…

"England… I'm sorry… I'm-I'm so, so sorry… I'm sorry for what I did, I didn't know that-" America tried to talk in between sobs, and near the end of his sentence, started crying.

"America, what the bloody hell do you mean?" I asked, leading him into the living room, closing the door behind me.

I sat next to America, holding him close, trying to calm him down.

It was at least ten minutes later that he had finally stopped crying. "America, what is it? Why were you crying?" I asked in a soothing voice.

He drew in a deep breath before saying, "E-England… I'm so, so sorry…"

"America, I still don't get what you are apologizing for. What happened?" I asked quietly.

"The Revolutionary War England… I'm so sorry… I never thought that it had…that it would-"

The war? Now this concerned me. America and I had rarely talked about this. Self-consciously we both knew it was a sensitive subject for the other, so we never talked about it. So what suddenly made the lad think about the war now?

"What suddenly made you think of this, America?"

I felt him trembling under my arms, this was not good. Nothing had ever scared him this much. "I…I had a dream about it." America admitted. "It went through that day…"

"A dream about it, hmm?" I said thoughtfully, "Now what were you trying to say earlier?"

America waited a few more moments until he was calm enough to explain. "I…I never thought that it had done so much damage to you England. That it would cause you so many years of sadness…"

I tensed for a second, thinking of what America said. It was the truth. It had taken me years to get over the fact that America had gone against me, it was even hard to look at him in the face the later years.

"Please America…" I said in a shaky voice, "Please don't bring this up…" I wiped my eyes.

"England, I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do – who to talk to – I just, I don't know!"

I suddenly started to feel dizzy, and every time he tried to talk, I couldn't hear anything, just his lips moving, and no sound.

Looking around, I suddenly fainted.

I opened my eyes again, and I saw America and I.

The Revolutionary War…

A dream! America said he had had a dream about the war! Is this what he had been talking about?

"Hey Britain, all I want is my freedom!" You could easily hear America yell. "I'm no longer a child, nor your little brothers from now on, consider me independent!"

Independence. Freedom. Those are both things America had always strived for.

I continued watching the scene in front of me, as America pointed his musket at me.

They stared at each other, America's filled with anger, mine with disbelief.

I've always wondered how he raised that musket at me, how he held it there. And the anger that blinded his eyes. Even if this was a dream, the anger in his eyes still made me tremble.

It was quiet. The rain kept on coming down. Until I had run towards America, my musket raised to his face. If he hadn't blocked it with his own, he could've died.

I was glad that he had blocked that attack. If it would hit him, I would've never forgiven myself.

Silence passed through the air, besides the quiet pitter-patter of the rain when it hit the ground. I stood watching, my hands were in fists and my face was burning with anger. America, why did he have to hurt me so much, just to get freedom? Why had he not realized that this event was like him shooting me in the heart?

My younger-self panted before yelling, "I won't allow it! You idiot why can't you follow anything through to the end?"

"Ready! Aim!"

He lowered his musket, not able to shoot him. I couldn't shoot him at the time. He had meant so much to me… "There's no way I can shoot you, I can't." he dropped to his knees, starting to cry, "Why? Damn it why? It's not fair." He choked out.

It all made sense. Why America had suddenly shown up at his doorstep. Why he constantly apologized. It all made sense now. But why did it take seeing this to know?

"You know why." America explained sadly. "What happened? I remember when you were great."

And then, I was suddenly awake again. America was sitting beside me on a chair, his head resting in his lap.

He must've been worried about me… I thought, sitting up quietly. "Hey…" was all I could manage, and I watched as America looked up at me.

**A/N** I never would've thought this would be so easy to write, but it was.

I wouldn't have written this unless **DbzAphluver**, **Ireland-EliyOHara** and **OreoF T Cookie** suggested it. So, if you are reading this, I give you a big thank you~

It's a possibility I'll write more, but again, if you want~


	3. Chapter 3

**American Revolution **

When England had collapsed, I had no idea what to think. So I just laid him down on the couch, not knowing what to do. I just buried my face in my lap, and waited for him to get up.

"Hey…" I heard England say quietly.

"E-England, wha-what happened?" I asked in a shaky voice.

England sat up, rubbing his eyes, "You know the dream you told me about…the war?"

I nodded, not understanding what he was talking about, but I kept quiet. "Well…I sort of went through the same thing…" he explained, as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"B-But how is that possible! I mean, how can we dream about the same thing?" I exclaimed, as I sat next to England.

"I'm not entirely sure about that, and all of this is very confusing for me. But I really don't want to talk about this…" England told me miserably, as he held his head in his hands.

I slumped back against the couch and remained quiet, as I tried to think about what I should do. "But…I really want to make sense of all this…" Shit. I did _not _mean to say that. How did the words just come out without me thinking?

England's eyes welled up with tears, threatening to fall down any second. "B-But, I d-don't want to…" said England shakily, as his body quivered.

"England, I'm not comfortable talking about this, just as much as you are, but I _need _to understand this. It's not something you can just…forget about…"

He looked at me, and his eyes held a deep sadness, which I felt bad for him. The war was always something that immediately got him sad, even just mentioning it would break him. But having it repeat in a dream? How has he not started sobbing? "It's just…I don't…I'm not sure I want to…" he said, his voice showed his uncertainty.

"England…" I said, my voice soft, and I stare into his stunning green eyes. "I just want to about this enough to know what this is about." I begged quietly, placing my hand on his, staring pleadingly at him.

England stared at my for a second, his eyes dull. Before he looked at me in the eye, "O-Okay." He agreed, and I smiled sadly. At least he agreed to talk about it, but it still made me feel bad, forcing him to talk about such…sensitive subject.

"Okay…" he repeated taking a deep breath. "When you declared independence from me, well, you should know what it had done to me. It broke me." England kept his head down, and continued talking, "The way you looked at me, the way you acted, your attitude, how had it changed so quickly, America?"

I remained silent, afraid that if I commented, it would let England start to cry.

He lifted his head up, and stared at the wall, he pulled his knees in and rested his chin on them, "When the war started, I had no idea what to think. I was in a war that had a person that was like my little brother. I knew, that some point in time, I would have to make a choice, if I wanted him to stop him from continuing with this…this nonsense, then I would have to…shoot him."

I stopped breathing, and stared wide-eyed at England. In a war, you never know what can happen, but there is always the possibility of dying from a bullet. Of course, I had known this then, and I do now. But…there's something when England says it aloud, it just…it shocks me. The thought of being shot by someone who treated me so much like a little brother, being shot by family is so alarming.

"The years passed slowly. And with every dead man there was on the battlefield, I felt guilty. The news that would be delivered to families about their deaths in the middle of war, it's so heart-breaking." England stopped, taking in a deep breath and biting his lip. "And if I wanted to end this, I would have to face you, and...and-..."

I understand what he means. Many people in militias were very loyal and fought bravely, wanting nothing but the end of the war, and to get our independence. But lots of people lost their lives in the war. Innocent people who wanted nothing to do with it.

"England..." I rested my hand on his, and soothingly rubbed circles on his hand. "Are you alright? Do you want to take a break?"

He shook his head, and wiped his eyes. "I'm fine." I stared at him and I told him, "Okay, go on then..."

"That day…when you held that musket at me, it shocked me. Even after the years, it wasn't surprising to have a musket pointed at you, but from you, it made my heart drop. For the past 8 years, we were in war, I was exhausted from it. The anger in your eyes though, it made me tremble. Someone who had once been so young and innocent was standing in front of me, grown up and pointing a musket at me, with a look in his eyes that was so hateful."

Is that what he had been quivering about? The looks in my eyes were hateful and full of anger… I was tired, tired from the long war. It had been going on so long, that I just wanted to end it, but even I was surprised I held that musket at him. I really had no intention to shoot him. England meant too much to me to do that.

"When I lowered my weapon, I knew I couldn't do it. I just couldn't shoot you. You were like a little brother to me, damn it."

I moistened my lips, "England, I'm so, so sorry for what I did. I never thought that it had caused you so much sadness, that it would…break your heart." I wrapped my arms around him, and pulled him closer to me.

"You bloody git, I'll be fine."

"But England…"

England gently pushed me away, and I was stunned, staring at him. "America, I swear, I'll be fine. Just please…please…I need room. Just…please distance yourself from me…" England asked quietly, looking down the whole time.

"England, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm bloody sure!" England yelled, as he got up and looked down at me. "Just give me 2 hours to think, this has just been…too much, so please just stay the bloody hell away!"

**A/N **This chapter was great to write. I had to try and think on what both of them thought, and I also had to use past references.

Thank you to **vampire16goddess17 **and **Englandaru** for leaving a review, it motivates me to write, so again, thank you .

But besides that, what did you think of this chapter? Leave a review because I very much want to know.

Next chapter it will be England's POV and America's discussion on it.


	4. Chapter 4

**American Revolution**

I sat on my bed glumly, staring blankly at the wall. Who would have thought that 2 hours to yourself, would give you so much time to think. And I was just mad at myself. When I told America to leave me alone, I had no reason to sound so upset. All he had done was be kind to me. But just talking about it, I had no idea what to think about it. My thoughts were all jumbled, and I couldn't even think straight. I've never been like this before.

If I was so upset about it, confused even, did I want to know what America was going to say?

Just like my thoughts, I wasn't sure. I mean, I want to know what he says, what he thinks, but then there is always the possibility I can end up crying. Like now.

A quiet knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts with a jolt. "England, are you alright?" A soft voice asked from the other side of the door.

"Y-yeah, 'm fine." I managed to say in-between sobs and hiccups. I wiped the tears that were streaming down my face, placing it on my knees.

There was long, pregnant pause, before he spoke up, "England, can you please let me in?" he asked in a voice so quiet, I nearly couldn't hear him.

I waited a few more seconds, before I slowly got up from my bed, and walked to the door. I took a long breath before I stubbornly said, "I'm not sure if I want to…"

"It is okay, England," said America softly, "you don't need to." I heard America sit down, leaning against the door.

I dropped to the ground, tears streaming down my face. Through my tears, I kept on repeating his name over and over.

"Shh, England, it's okay. I'll just wait."

America has never been this caring, it's nice. "Th-thank you America."

He sighed contently, choosing to remain quiet. He mumbled something, but I couldn't exactly hear what he said. "W-what did you say, America?"

"I-It's no problem." America replied in a shaky voice. Almost as if he had been crying earlier…

After a few more minutes, I finally started to calm down. I listened quietly, as I heard America's leveled breathing. I bit my lip, "America…" I mumbled, as I hugged my knees closely to my chest.

"Yes, what is it, England?" asked America.

I let out a sigh, before saying, "You can tell me your part of the story America…"

"Are…you sure?"

"Yes," I reassured him.

"All right, if you say so…" A shaky breath was heard, and then America said, "When I…when I declared the war, I-I didn't mean to hurt you so much." He said, his voice louder than before, yet still so insecure. "It hurt you, I understand that, but it did to me almost as much. It honestly did. I had to watch my people, die for what they believed in. That's nice that they stood for that, also through to the end, but it just hurt me so much." America said, nearly choking on tears at the end of the sentence.

I wanted to get up, to help him, but I…I just couldn't stand. My legs refused to let me. So I just sat there, staring blankly at the wall.

He cleared his throat, and continued, "And adding to the fact that I watched them die, I also – I also had to kill people. I wasn't too fond of the idea of taking another person's life. In fact, most days, I would cry myself to sleep."

"America, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt you, but, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, what is it, England?" He asked.

I drew in a deep breath, before saying. "I-is it true that you did that? Cried yourself to sleep, I mean?"

Silence pulsed through the air, and I heard America's leveled breathing. "Yes, that is true. I have no reason to lie to you, England. Every word I am saying is true. I wouldn't…I would _never _lie about things like this." He clarified.

"I'm sorry, I was just wondering. You may continue."

There were three deep breaths, and I heard him count to three in a nearly inaudible voice. "'Kay," he said aloud, "As the years went by, the war of course was still going on. Sometimes throughout the years, I had thoughts giving up the idea of liberty, but then again, that would let my people down."

I bit my lips, on the verge of crying again, but I held them back. Had he really thought _that _deeply? To be honest, that idea, those thoughts, almost made me.

America sighed loudly, and there was shuffling. "'Sorry England, to make you talk about it this, forcing you to listen to me. I don't see how any of this could work, how we dreamt about the same thing. I don't think there is an answer to this." He sighed again, I heard him stand. "I'll just leave; it's probably the best for now. Have a good day."

I blinked, remaining silent. It's not like I wanted to. I was taking in what he had said. Wait a minute – he was going to leave?! I scrambled to stand up, unlocked the door in a hurry, and flung it open. America had already walked half of the corridor.

"Don't go!" I exclaimed, as I ran to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Please don't go, America, please."

"Whoa, England, geez. To get me to stop, you could have simply asked me, but I suppose that works too." I felt his arms wrap around me. "It's alright. Just calm down." He said calmly, as he caressed my hair.

I pulled away, holding him at arm's length, and punched his chest lightly. "You can't expect me to simply _tell _you things that I haven't told a _single soul _and then leave half-way through yours!" I said sincerely.

America shook his head, "I'm sorry," apologized America, while closing his eyes tightly. "I just don't know what to think. Do you want me to finish telling ya?"

I nodded, "Yes, please." I agreed with America. I don't see how any of this would work. Or how there could be an answer, but I just couldn't leave it there.

"Okay then." uttered America, and for the first time since he arrived, he sounded like himself. Confident, and energetic. He grabbed my hand, pulling me along behind him. "I'll finish it, but let's go for a walk. We can use the fresh air, don't ya think so?"

I stumbled along, trying to keep up with his pace, and gripped his hand. "Sure, if you want to, America." I agreed quietly. I stopped, as did America. "B-but I'm a mess! I can't go out in public like this!"

Alfred turned toward me, frowning. "If ya want to clean yourself up before we go, you can. I'm not going to let you humiliate yourself." His thumb caressed my cheek, wiping away a tear that had trickled down. "'s not like I would get mad at you." He let go of my hand, and his hand gently pulled away from my cheek. "Take all the time you need." He grinned, ruffling my hair.

I nodded, and walked passed him. Gradually making my way to the bathroom, I thought of all the things he had told me.

As soon as I got to the bathroom, I turned on the faucet so that cold water ran out. I splashed the water onto my face, shivering as it made contact with my skin. I grabbed the hand towel, and started to dry my face. I held the towel in my hand, staring at my reflection. I frowned, trying to fix my tousled hair, of course, it hadn't worked.

I heard a quiet knock on the door, along with a chuckle. I looked over at the open door, wide-eyed, watching as America grinned. "What is it?" I asked.

A smile graced his lips while I finished talking. "Nothing really. Just funny how you can never really keep that hair in its place."

"Oh you shut it." I said, smiling back at him.

He laughed again. "Okay, okay, I will. Are ya ready to go? Or you still need time?"

"No-no, we could go." I said, maybe a bit too quickly.

America took my hand in his once again, tugging it lightly. "C'mon then!"

"Oi, there's no need for you to pull my hand to get me moving! You _know _I can walk."

"Yup, I know." America chirped happily, holding my hand as he walked beside me. I bit my lip, my eyes glancing up towards America. "Do you have any place in mind you want to go to?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not at all. I just want to walk." America opened the door, and pulled me along.

I pulled my hand away from his, rather forcefully too. "What if people see us, America? They'll probably get the wrong idea of us..." I mumbled the last part of the sentence, looking down at the ground.

America ignored me, and grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't care what they think, England. They don't know us, so they shouldn't even think of such thing. People really shouldn't judge others so quickly without actually knowing the person in the first place." He grinned down at me. "Besides, you always held mine when I was younger, am I right?"

"Yes, you're right about people being quick to judge others. But America, that was when we were younger! You were like a little brother!" I said, trying to take his hand away from mine.

He gripped my hand again; it was firm, but not tight. "So, what's the difference now?" asked America.

I blushed, avoiding all the weird looks that were set upon the both of us. I sighed, "America, you're older now, people will think we're seeing each other."

Alfred waved his hand. "As I stated, think what they might, I don't care. But, you wanted to hear the rest of it, right?"

"Yes, you can now."

"Alright then…" he paused, "That one day, when I had held that musket at you, I honestly didn't know what I was thinking. I didn't want to shoot you. Never, ever, would I be able to do that."

I shivered, being reminded of what he had looked like in the dream. I let out a whine, and held his hand tightly.

"You doin' fine, England?"

I jumped, loosening my grip, and let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. "I-I'm sorry, I was thinking." I closed my eyes tightly, "I remembered, that look in your eyes, it just scares me." I shivered, and let out a sigh.

"But out of those years, all of the misery I put myself into, the worse one for me was seeing you on the ground crying at my knees. Right then, I knew what pain you went through. You were betrayed. Those hurt me the most."

I looked up at America again. His eyes were distant, and he closed them. "America? America, are you listening to me?" I squeezed his hand.

"Y-yes, sorry." He apologized.

"Please stop with the apologies, America. I know, you are truly sorry, I know."

He nodded weakly, "Yeah, I know." America said quickly, "On that day, why I looked so hateful, was probably because I hadn't gotten much sleep. Every time when I closed my eyes, I would hear these screams of agony, yells for help. I was so horrifying that I couldn't sleep."

"America, _listen to me_. That was in the past. We can't change it. What has been done is done."

He brought a hand to his head, "I am quite aware of that," he sighed, "but at that age, it scared me so much. I didn't know what to do."

I stared into his sapphire-blue eyes, "You should have told me that sooner. I could have helped you, America."

"I-I know, England. I know I should have. I couldn't bring myself to though. But after that war, there…" he choked on his tears, "after it, I just wanted to see you so bad. I didn't know how much you meant to me. I missed you so, so much, E-England."

My eyes widened as he admitted that. I, evidently, missed him as well. But even seeing him, I would have to leave the room. People think having power over others would be amazing to have. It isn't what you think it is. All the countries that I had used to own, they had all broken away from me in some way. And having America do the same, I just couldn't help but feel like something was missing from my life.

"America, we should stop now. It just isn't helping us. It brings back too much bad memories for us to handle."

"I know, you're right. We can finish it in two days, when we go to the world meeting. W-who was hosting it this time?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

I paused, thinking. Me! It was me! How could I forget…? "It's me, America. I'm the host country." I mumbled.

He squeezed my hand, like he used to when he was a child. "Can I stay at your place, England? It would be easier than having to go back home and back here."

"Of course you can." I answered. "Come on; let's go back to my house."

**A/N **So sorry for not updating earlier. I just haven't had the inspiration to write this. _But then it suddenly came to me! _I was elated when I started to write this. It is very much different than the previous chapter. That was written so long ago o_o Not really.

Thank you to **Ireland-EilyOHara **who had reviewed~ It really makes me happy when I get feedback~

And yes, I am going to be making another chapter. Oh, and if you see any mistakes, please tell me. I write these in such early hours, I sometimes miss them.


	5. Chapter 5

**American Revolution**

"No America, don't go!" I yelled, as I woke suddenly. I wiped the sweat from my face, and tried to level my breathing. Frantically, I looked around my room, and saw America sleeping peacefully. I sighed with relief, and lied back down. My breathing leveled out as the minutes passed by. I looked over at America, smiling. As quietly as possible, I moved closer to America, and held him close to me. "I wish I didn't have to be reminded of this." I whispered.

America groaned, and he nuzzled closer to me. "England…" he spoke in a tired voice, "are ya awake?"

"Yes…yes, America, I am." I answered.

America pulled me closer to him, resting his head on mine. "O-oh, did I wake you up?" he asked in a more than slightly surprised voice.

I closed my eyes, "No, no, you didn't. Had a bad dream." I answered shortly. "It's nothing to worry about. I can handle it now." I promised.

"Hmm, if ya say so." he pulled his arms away from me. "'Sorry for barging into your room in the middle of the night." apologized America, whilst he got up from the bed. "I couldn't stand sleeping in that room by myself." He beamed at me, "Thank you for helping me through the night, England!"

I felt my face warm up, as the blood rushed to my face. I coughed nervously to cover my embarrassment. "Yeah, err, no need to mention that." I said, evidently flustered.

"No, really, thank you. I couldn't have dealt with that alone." America said sincerely.

I nodded slowly, but said nothing. Well, I had no idea what to say.

"So, d'ya want me to make you breakfast?" America asked suddenly.

"Hmm?" I said, lost in thought. "O-oh, yeah… Sure, sounds good right now."

America smiled again, leaned down, and kissed the top of my head. "'Kay, England, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." He ruffled my hair fondly, before walking out of the room.

Ever since yesterday, he's been showing affection in such little ways, all in which made me happy. It was nothing romantic, neither of us thought of each other that way. I think it was just another way for him to say he was sorry. I never asked nor was I going to. Ever. That would just make me embarrassed, and make things awkward between us.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, before I rose from the bed. I headed down the hallways and into the living room. Without a thought, I laid on the couch. It wasn't really comfortable, but I didn't want to be in the room at the moment. My eyelids felt heavier, and I closed them, getting even sleepier by the second.

* * *

"Hey, England, are you even awake?" I heard America's voice distantly ask. I groaned. My hand waved, trying to get him away. "Oh! He is up! Eeeengland, food is done. Wake up please?" He shook me lightly. My eyes fluttered open, and saw America staring right back at me with his sapphire-blue eyes.

I sat up, and groggily looked around. "America…? Hmm, what do you want?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"The food is done. I never thought you'd fall asleep, England." He ended his sentence with a bright smile.

I groaned rather loudly, "No, go away America. I don't wanna get up." I stated stubbornly. "Wake me up later, will you?"

America sighed, "England, if you don't get up, you're going to be late for the world meeting later."

"Blimey! How long did I sleep, America?" I exclaimed, simultaneously sitting up.

"Whoa, England, settle down. I just said that to get you up. I didn't actually mean that." America said, "We still have a few more hours before it anyways."

I groaned, "Ugh, America, don't say things like that."

America nodded, "Alright," he agreed, "But anything else wouldn't have worked." I felt him grab my hand, "You must have been really drowsy to fall asleep so carelessly. That's not like you. But I suppose you need some sleep." He added tugging my hand, causing me to be pulled from the couch.

"Oi, watch what you're doing, you prat! I don't want to be bloody pulled around like that!" I said lethargically, but didn't pull my hand away.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." He said happily, pulling me to the kitchen – and yes, I mean that quite literally.

* * *

I sat in my chair, twirling a pencil through my fingers. This meeting was insufferable for me. I nearly wanted to storm out of the meeting room. But I knew better than that, so I just sat there.

_Ugh, who would have thought that meetings can be _this _long? I can't wait this long… _I thought to myself, continuing to spin the pencil. _If only I could make time go faster… _

I saw a hand wave in front of my face and a faraway voice talking to me. "Hey, are you with me England?"

"Wh-what do you want, America?" I asked, shock in my voice. _What happened…? _I thought. I looked at America who was sitting in a chair next to me, then to the now-empty conference room.

"The meeting is over, England." explained America. "You sure you're alright today? Something's off about you. First you doze off at your house, and now."

I nodded slowly, looking around the now-empty room. "Wait a minute, America." I placed my hand on his, and calmly, and very quietly asked, "When did the meeting end?"

America shrugged, "I dunno, maybe ten minutes ago. You weren't saying anything, so I dismissed everyone. I've been trying to get your attention maybe the past five minutes? I'm not so sure on that."

I blinked, taking in what he said. "Oh…well I'm sorry for troubling you, America." I said. _Did it really end ten minutes ago? _I glanced down at my wristwatch, watching as the second hand ticked by. _It really _did _end ten minutes ago. I would've noticed everyone leaving…wouldn't I? _

"Nah, it was nothing, England. Anyways, about that, erm-" He cut himself off, squirming in his chair.

"Oh, right, that…" I said, trailing off. _Why am I being such an idiot?! I've been waiting for this damned meeting to end to talk to him! _

"So, what do you think about it? I mean, I've been thinking these past two days, but I didn't come up with anything." He explained, as he looked at me eagerly.

I attempted to take my hand away from his, but he took it in his, squeezing it lightly. I blushed, but made no comment of it, "I thought quite a bit about it, maybe a tad longer than I should have. I kept myself up a bit later than I intended to last night, which is probably the reason why I accidently fell asleep…"

"Yeah, I suppose so, but did you come up with anything that might help?" asked America.

I sighed, "Yes, I did, however, I don't think it would be any help…" America stayed silent, and I could tell he was waiting for me to tell him. "My theory is, that we," I locked eyes with him, "avoided this too long than we should have."

America nodded, "I suppose that could make sense, but – France, what are you doing here?" he asked suddenly.

"Ohohoho, are Angleterre and Amérique getting together?" France asked, while striding across the room, a smirk plastered to his face.

My face flushed red with a combination of both embarrassment and anger. _The nerve this French frog has to barge into the room and ask such questions! _I tried to get up from my seat, but from under the table, America grabbed and held it tightly, giving me a stern look, silently telling me to calm down. I took a deep breath and composed myself, but that didn't stop me from muttering curses under my breath.

"Hmm, now that I think about it, you two would be quite cute together, no?" The Frenchman cocked his head to the side, his smirk still on his face. He sat himself across from us. "I have no idea why you didn't think of doing so earlier."

I felt my heartbeat racing, and my breaths coming out shortly. I closed my eyes, and tried to stop my hands from shaking with anger. America rubbed circles with his thumb for a while, and gripped it.

"Why are you two so dense to figure out that you have feelings for each other?" France chuckled, obviously enjoying the fact that he just walked in on us, "I'm sure everybody knows about this… Don't tell me you two just started, hmm?"

I jerked my hand away from America's, my face burning. "No, we are _not _seeing each other! Just because we're alone in a room, doesn't mean there is something romantic between us!" I seethed, as I got up from my seat. "Don't think you can go around and just assume that kind of thing!"

France looked utterly shocked by my sudden outburst. His mouth opened and closed several times but nothing came out.

I got up onto the table, and walked across, absolutely angry. I crouched down and hopped off the table. "It's something you wouldn't – it's something you would _never_ understand!" I slapped him across the face. "Just stay the bloody hell away from me!" I exclaimed, before I ran out of the room.

_That bastard, why does he even _think _of that?! _I wiped my face, and continued to run through the hallways. I had no idea where I was going, all that mattered to me right now was to be _away _from France.

I opened a door, walked in then angrily slammed the door behind me. I walked a little farther, but ended up slumping against the wall and started to sob. The minutes ticked by, and I was still crying, although it was much more quiet.

"–France, you shouldn't have said that! I know, you guys always have fights, but when it comes to feelings for someone else, he can be really self-conscious about that!" said America's voice, which he sounded rather irritated.

"Oui, I should have known better, I was not thinking of how he would react."

A string of curses were coming out as soon as I heard that frog's voice. But then I stopped, calming myself down, remembering what America tried to do to me.

"Maybe I should apologize to Angleterre…"

"I am merely repeating what England said to you, _stay away from him._" America said venomously.

"O-oui, I'll be leaving then." France said shakily, before he hurried off.

America let out a frustrated sigh, "England, where are you?" he asked, a lot more composed than before. "He's gone, so please tell me where you are."

"In here, America… I'm in here…" I mumbled.

The door creaked open, and then closed quietly behind him. "Listen, England, I'm sorry about what France said." He told me in a soothing voice and I heard him kneel down in front of me. "Hey, it's alright now."

"I'm sorry, but him saying that, he just went too far." I sniffled.

"Look at me, please, I can't tell if you're listening to me if your face is buried in your hands." His hands gently held either side of my face, lifting it, then removed my hands so I looked directly at him. "England, don't think about whatever the hell France says, it doesn't matter right now."

I leaned into his touch, and gave a meek nod. "I understand I shouldn't, but the problem is, I don't…" I stopped, not really knowing what to say. "I don't really think when I'm angry like that." I said, looking down at the ground.

"Hey, look at me," he caressed my cheek with his thumb, wiping the tears from my eye. "Can you tell me what you were saying earlier?" he asked soothingly.

I looked back up at him, and gave a weak smile. "So, as I said, I think we've avoided it longer than we should have, so…we were reminded about it." I closed my eyes again, "I think we dreamt the same thing, because we never tried to talk about it. We tried to push it aside, and act as if it would never have happened. Both of us didn't even try to talk about it.

"That's the thing, America. When we didn't even try to talk about it, we didn't even know what the other was thinking. What we felt during those times. I, to be honest, don't think it was meant to hurt us, but just to remind us that we never talked about it."

America lowered his hands, and sat next to me. "You know, what you are saying. It actually makes sense."

He stayed quiet for a few minutes, before he said, "England, thank you. I get what this was about. For a while, I still believed that there was no answer, but what you just said, it makes sense. It fits." He got up on his knees. "Now, don't you think we should go home?"

I bit my lip, "Y-yeah, you're right."

America smiled, and kissed my forehead again. "Let's get going then." He said happily, whilst standing up.

Before he could grab my hand and help me up, I got up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Umm, England…" he said slowly and hesitantly, "what is…what is the meaning of this? I mean, I just don't-"

"Shush, America…" I spoke quietly, "I want to tell you something…something I should have told you years ago." I held him close, to make sure that he could hear me. "America, you were the best little brother I could _ever _have." I admitted. "And yes, I forgive you. I could never hate you, America, my little brother." I never thought telling America would make me so happy.

America nodded, "Thank you England, and you were the best person to raise me."

**A/N **Chapter five done and done! This was great to write, and I hoped you enjoyed to read it, just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you to **American50Amber **for leaving your lovely review~ When I get feedback it really motivates me to write and absolutely elated~!

Now, I'm pretty sure that is the last chapter. I have no idea what I would write about if I made another. But I suppose if I did it would be them, hmm, how to say this…closer to each other? Not in a romantic way, of course, but like they understand each other more?

I dunno. Do you guys want another chapter, or should I just end it there? Please tell me… Although I'm not sure if people read these.


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